The Brave One
by ElphieNeedsAHug
Summary: "Dorothy stood… well… she wasn't quite sure where she stood. Or if she stood at all, for that matter." Dorothy has a strange adventure that opens her mind to the question: was there something she missed when she was in Oz? Once was a oneshot, but now has been expanded to multichap, though the first chapter can be read as a oneshot. Canon pairings. Aka: What She Missed
1. What She Missed: Oneshot

**A/N: This is just a random, for-no-reason one-shot/drabble thing that popped into my head after reading one of those "Copy this into your profile" things. Who came up with those things anyway? I digress...**

 **Disclaimer: *sarcastically* Yes, I most definitely own Wicked and the WoO. Totally. Right.**

 **Fiyero: Seriously? (O.O) Woah...**

 **Me and Elphaba: *facepalm***

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Dorothy stood… well… she wasn't quite sure where she stood. Or if she stood at all, for that matter. It was just hazy whiteness around her. For what she could see, there was nothing but whiteness. Not even _Toto_ was with her, and Toto was _always_ with her. Always. So then, where was she? Was she dead? No, she couldn't be dead. She didn't know what death felt like, but it most certainly didn't feel like this. Besides, she was breathing. Breathing while dead sort of defied the point of being dead.

 _So then, where am I and what is happening?_ Dorothy wondered, on the verge of tears. She was confused and lost, two feelings that did not sit well with her. She opened her mouth to call for someone, anyone, but no sound would come out. This, naturally, frightened the small Kansas farm girl even more.

" _If you have no ability to speak out, you ain't got no ability to do nothing"_ her Aunt Em always said. So she was stuck in the middle of nowhere, without Toto, and without the ability to do anything about it? Dorothy would have gone into full sobbing mode if not for the fact that she sensed something behind her. Turning around, she saw a door just standing there in the mist. She wasn't aware of any wall for the door to be set in, or any reason for there to be a door there at all, but she attempted to go through it anyway, as she was mostly relieved to find a solid object in this place that wasn't herself.

Dorothy was relieved to find that the doorknob turned with ease. Pulling the door open, she found that beyond it was a long, narrow passage way. Lanterns hung from the ceiling to illuminate the otherwise dark passage. _Maybe that way will get me home,_ Dorothy thought, and, not seeing any better idea, started walking down the passage. She wasn't sure how long she walked, but eventually she reached another door. This door, too, opened easily at her touch. She was about to walk in, but then shot back into the passage and hid behind the door. She had seen a group of people sitting around a table. She didn't want to disturb them - who knew if they'd be friendly - but curiosity got the best of her and she peeked around the door.

Five people sat around a table in a small wooden cabin. They all looked rather familiar. Dorothy scanned the table. A man made of tin, a scarecrow… Dorothy gasped, then covered her mouth in alarm. They were her friends from Oz! Was this a portal back to the wonderful land of Oz? Under any other set of circumstances, Dorothy would have ran into that room with no second thoughts, but the strange events that had occurred before that had sharpened her sense of caution, and she decided to check if the coast was clear before entering. She settled on observing each person carefully, starting from the woman on the far left.

Dorothy didn't remember ever seeing this woman in Oz. She was a rather beautiful girl, no older than twenty. She had dark brown hair pulled up in a tight bun and her lips were firmly pursed together. Dorothy couldn't recognise this person at all until she shifted her gaze downward. On her feet were the shining, ruby slippers. Dorothy gasped again, despite her hand that was still covering her mouth. It was the Wicked Witch of the East who she had crushed under her house not a month ago. Dorothy thought to run, but then reasoned with herself; a rare occurrence.

The Witch of the East didn't seem to be moving, nor did any of the other Ozians. Besides, Dorothy had crushed the witch under her house, so this couldn't be in the present. Dorothy couldn't even start to imagine how or why this was happening, but she was pretty certain that it was safe enough to walk into the room for a closer look, so she did.

Dorothy shifted her gaze to the next person. She smiled, recognizing the tin man in front of her without trouble. There was something queer about this, though. The Witch of the East seemed to be staring at the tin man in a peculiar way. Dorothy couldn't identify it, but she was suddenly worrying for the tin man's personal safety. At a closer look, though, she realized that the tin man was staring at someone too. Looking to the right, the young farm girl saw Glinda the Good in front of her.

As happy as she was to see Glinda, she was thrown off by the obsession on the face of her old tin friend. It stirred an old memory at the back of Dorothy's mind. When she and her friends had gone to see Glinda after their adventure, she had noticed that the tin man had acted very strangely around Glinda. She hadn't noticed it then, but had the tin man been… in love with Glinda?

Dorothy shook her head. _Of course not, Dorothy, don't be ridiculous. The man doesn't have a heart! He can't fall in love, can he?_ At this moment, Dorothy sensed something strange about Glinda as well. Sure, she was still as pretty as she had been a month ago, but her happy air had disappeared. In it's place was total anger and hate. The look looked unnatural on the blonde's face. Dorothy looked to see what Glinda hated so much… and would have screamed if not for her inability to do so at the moment. At the very right side of the table were the scarecrow and none other than the Wicked Witch of the West.

The Wicked Witch leaned against the scarecrow, deeply immersed in a thick novel. It never occurred to Dorothy that the Wicked Witch would like books, or anything for that matter. She always seemed like the kind of person who just rebelled against everything. The strangest thing about her appearance at the moment, though, was that she looked… younger. When Dorothy visited Oz, the Wicked Witch seemed like an old woman who had grown to dislike everything and everyone, but the woman in front of her looked no older than 25, with long, ebony flowing locks. She actually looked sort of pretty.

Dorothy shifted her attention to her straw friend, and what she saw surprised her. The scarecrow looked happy. Not scared, not disgusted, not even bored. Just happy. He had his arms around the witch and rested his chin on her head. The both looked very content with the situation. Could the Wicked Witch of the West and the scarecrow be-

 _No, stop thinking like that, Dorothy._ Dorothy told herself, sternly. _There must be something else going on. Anything but that._ But, try as she might, Dorothy couldn't come up with another explanation for the scenario. But now what? Dorothy was about to see if there was any other exit than the one she entered from when the Wicked Witch looked up from her book and stared at her for a good, long second. Dorothy froze in her tracks.

"Hey! It's that farm girl!" The witch stood up and ran towards Dorothy. There was a blinding flash of green light…

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Dorothy sat straight up in her bed, panting heavily. _Great, it was just a dream!_ Dorothy could have jumped for joy that the Witch of the West didn't have her, but there was a strange reality to that dream she had. Dorothy stood up and walked across her small room, stopping at the window to open it. She took a deep breath of fresh air. She couldn't help but wonder, though: _Was there something that she missed?_

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 **A/N #2: 5 days left of school! Sorry I sort of disappeared. I will start updating my other stories regularly once summer starts. Though it's cloudy today...**

 **Reviews make my heart smile! 3**


	2. Important!

**A/N: So, people have been wanting more from this story (thank you!) and some people followed the story because they thought that it was a multichapter. So I have decided to continue this story. Honestly, this is NOT going to happen any time soon, but it WILL happen. I have decided that I will do maximum two multichapters at a time, so once one of my current multichaps is done, I will start this one full fledgedly. Thank you for your support and this is a little lead to the upcoming multichap.**

 **Disclaimer: What do you think?**

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"May fa Leigh kash Analiegh Analiegh say Len na…" Elphaba kneeled over the Grimmerie chanting a spell late at night. Glinda sat on a sofa staring at her intently and Fiyero paced the length of the room. After about an hour of this, Elphaba's voice died down. Fiyero stopped pacing to look at her. She was a pale green and she was sweating. She leaned against her arm and brushed the hair out of her face, drained from the furious spell casting. Fiyero walked over to her and sat beside her.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly, letting Elphaba rest against him.

"Yeah," she said, closing her eyes. Spell casting wore her off more than anything else. "Do we really need that farm brat helping us? We have the Animals!"

"Yes, but we need all the help we can get. Besides, Dorothy isn't as bad as you think," Glinda piped in from her seat at the sofa. "She's actually braver than you think."

"Brave? That girl?" Elphaba huffed.

"Fae, we've been through this. Oz is in trouble, and we need as many people on our side as possible," Fiyero said comfortingly. "Hey, what kind of thing did you do to her, anyway?"

"I'm not sure. The spell just said that it would show someone what they didn't see before. I have absolutely no clue what kind of thing it would do, and frankly, I don't care. I just hope it works," Elphaba said, tiredly. After a moment of silence, she drifted into a deep sleep. Fiyero shifted her head into his lap and let her sleep. He looked at Glinda.

"You should get some rest too, Glin. We have a big war in front of us."

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 **A/N #2: Like the idea? Hate the idea? Please let me know! (Just be nice, please)**

 **Reviews make my heart smile! 3**


	3. Harping About the Past

**A/N: HI! I'm back!**

 **I know I said this story would wait until** _ **after**_ **I was done with my others, but to be frank, I haven't the faintest idea where those are going. I don't really know, do people still read Wicked fanfics? I've pre-written this story to about six chapters ahead, and I love it so much I really had to post at least one. Maybe I'll post the next one next week, since it's summer now and I have more free time. (Yay no school! *fistpump*)**

 **So yeah! Enjoy and have fun!**

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Dorothy retched again into the bucket next to her straw mattress, vomit splashing into the bottom. She groaned as Aunt Em climbed up into the loft to collect the bucket.

"I told you not to drink that milk before it was heated, but did you listen? No! Now look where you are!" She grumbled.

"Sorry, Auntie Em," Dorothy croaked, weakly, watching her climb down the ladder and dump the sick outside the door, then come back with the empty bucket

"Say sorry to your stomach," Aunt Em said, "Just be glad you didn't get salmonella from that milk."

"Yes, Auntie Em," Dorothy agreed, lying on her back and staring at the wooden boards that crisscrossed the ceiling. She heard her Aunt descend the ladder again. In the distance, the sounds of Uncle Henry yelling at the pigs and Hunk, Hickory, and Zeke trying to fix their old wheelbarrow (or pretending to do so in order to get cookies) drifted to her ears. Through her open window, she could see the sun shining through. It was a beautiful day, but Dorothy wasn't even a little disappointed that she couldn't be outside with everyone else.

She couldn't stop thinking about the dream that she had had. It must have been about three nights ago. All the thinking she had been doing would have probably worried Aunt Em and Uncle Henry. She was dreamy, yes, just like her mother, but not thoughtful. That's why she was thankful for this time alone to ponder. That dream seemed like more than just a dream. It seemed almost real.

 _No, "real" isn't the word for it_ , Dorothy thought, _It wasn't real, but it wasn't just a dream. It was-_ Dorothy struggled to find the word. _It was a_ vision _!_

The idea intrigued the young farm girl. Vision? How would that happen? She wasn't a witch! She was never able to perform any magic without help from Glinda or the ruby slippers. She couldn't understand how something like that could have happened!

What if Glinda the Good had done something when she had left Oz? What if she was magical? Images of making cows fly and sending Miss Gulch retreating from fear into her mansion of a house for good ran through Dorothy's head. Perhaps she could magically enchant the next tornado that came around to send her back to Oz. Then, maybe she could find one of her friends and ask them what that vision had meant.

The vision. If it really _was_ a vision, then what had it been trying to tell her? Was there really something she hadn't caught while she was in Oz? The Tin Man being, dare she say it, _in love_ with Glinda didn't seem too crazy: he did have a heart at some point and Glinda was quite beautiful, but the Scarecrow and the Wicked Witch of the West? Outrageous! She didn't understand it! The witch was pure evil! She tried to throw fireballs at them! And the Scarecrow was on their side, he wasn't a traitor!

Right?

A memory flashed before Dorothy's eyes. The look on the Scarecrow's face after the witch had melted: it had seemed like he was holding back a scream. Or fighting tears. Or trying not to throw up.

At that thought, Dorothy, turned onto her side and threw up into the bucket for the ninth time that day. At the sound, she heard Aunt Em rushing around downstairs.

"How much do you have in that stomach of yours, eh? It's like you ate a hippo!" She exclaimed, climbing up the ladder again. She handed the girl a glass of water without looking and grabbed the bucket. Dorothy slowly drank the water, deciding to push aside her thoughts until a later time. With that, she drifted off to sleep.

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"You know if this is going to work, you have to cast another spell, right?" Fiyero asked hesitantly. Elphaba sighed.

"You told me that already."

"I know, but-"

"I'll live," Elphaba said, grabbing the Grimmerie off a shelf and walking over to the sofa. Fiyero stepped in front of her, grabbing her wrists. "Yero, what are you doing?"

"You know, I've been thinking-" Elphaba gasped dramatically, pulling one arm from Fiyero's grip and placing it over her mouth in feigned surprise.

"Fiyero Tiggular? Think? What has the world come to!" Elphaba put the back of her hand on her forehead and tilted her head back, suppressing laughter.

"Come on, Fae, I'm being serious!"

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Elphaba chuckled, playfully, releasing herself from her human handcuffs and walking over to the sofa, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips.

"Elphaba, listen to me!" Fiyero whined, plopping down next to her.

"Okay, okay, what is it?" Elphaba gave in.

"I just don't think we should do this now," Fiyero confessed.

"I'm not made of glass, I'll be alright. Spell casting has never done any lasting damage to me."

"I know, but still," Fiyero hesitated, "don't you think we should wait a week or two? The Idealists-"

"Idealists?" Elphaba quirked an eyebrow. Fiyero looked confused.

"That's what they're called, right?"

"Yeah, but I never liked that name. I makes it sound like what their doing is beneficial," she sighed, fiddling with the corner of the spell book on her lap.

"Well, they _are_ the one's that picked it," Fiyero shrugged.

"The resistance and I always called them the Wigeoks," Elphaba said casually.

"The Wiggy-what now?" Fiyero said, confused. She chuckled.

"Wigeok. It was the sacred taboo name of the grim reaper during the darker ages of Oz, where dragons burned down cities and the plague killed over half the population. It was said that the Wigeok would come and torture whole villages to death if anyone were to speak his name," she stated simply. Fiyero stared at her.

"What?" She demanded.

"Nothing! It's just that it's a little harsh, that's all," Fiyero quickly said.

"Well, what their _doing_ is harsh!" Elphaba insisted.

"Elphaba," Fiyero looked at her.

"Fine, the _Idealists_ ," Elphaba said, rolling her eyes. "You were saying?"

"I don't know, they're all over the place right now. Dorothy does have a habit of coming and going with a bang." Elphaba thought about that for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip, thoughtfully. Fiyero resisted the strong urge to kiss her: she looked so cute when she concentrated like that. He had known her long enough, though, to know that she wouldn't be happy with him breaking her train of thought. He had time for those types of things later.

"They _might_ notice something," she started, "but there will always be members of the Wig- sorry, _Idealists_ in the area," Elphaba said.

"But what if they find our hiding spot?"

"You're pushing it, Yero, this house is under all the concealment charms I know," Elphaba said.

"But we don't want them to know we're in the area," Fiyero tried. Elphaba considered this.

"That's true," she paused again, "we could get her onto our side if there are less of them in the area."

"They are bound to pass at some point," Fiyero finished.

"Look at that, some of my brains have rubbed off on you," Elphaba joked, ruffling Fiyero's hair.

" _Fae_ ," Fiyero whined, pouting. Elphaba chuckled and kissed him. He responded eagerly, immediately perking up. After a second or two, the couple broke apart, leaning their foreheads against the other's. Elphaba sighed, picking up the Grimmerie and walking to the door of the small cabin, grabbing her satchel off the hook and sliding the spell book in.

"I have to go. The two Resistance bases we already set up aren't nearly enough and I promised that I'd go and help them build more today." She grabbed her cloak and broomstick and turned back to Fiyero. He had followed her over and was holding her hat, looking down. She smiled sadly at him, knowing what he was thinking.

"I'll be alright, don't worry," she told him for the one hundredth time. He nodded, though he knew that even when stabbed by a dagger and bleeding, Elphaba would still insist that she was fine, and it drove him mad. He pulled her to him and kissed her hair.

"Come back soon," he said, placing the hat on her head. She nodded, hugging him back quickly. She opened the door.

"If Glinda comes back, tell her we decided to postpone casting the spell," Elphaba said. Fiyero nodded. She raised her hand as goodbye, then jumped on her broom and was gone in a clock tick. Fiyero closed the door behind her, wondering if this madness would ever end.

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 **A/N #2: Explanations and backstory will be given soon(ish)**

 **Also, "Wigeok" is pronounced with a soft "g" (I'm assuming)**

 **Reviews make my heart smile! :)**


	4. You'll Be Making Good

**A/N: Still dry on ideas for other things, so might as well update this again :D Enjoy the chapter!**

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Shadows were Elphaba's best friend, nowadays. And unfortunately for her, there were none around.

She and a small group of Animals - a Hare, an Osprey and her chicks, a black Leopard, and an orphaned young Moose - were crouched down behind a row of trees that lay at the edge of a park in the Gillikin. Even in midsummer, the sun seemed to have been smothered out and taken over by the endless blanket of clouds that draped over the small village, and they were just being hidden by a cloaking spell that Elphaba was struggling to maintain. It was a fairly easy one, she had said, but hard to keep going. Her fists were clenched as she furrowed her brows in concentration, eyes darting from one place to another, trying to formulate a plan, or at least a safe place to go for the time being. The young Moose looked at her with concern very much like Fiyero would have been showing her. Only the thin layer of vegetation and the cloaking spell were hiding them from the watchful eyes of the community.

Suddenly, Elphaba jumped up and bolted down the line of trees, gesturing for the others to follow. They followed the green girl through the line of greenery, eventually reaching the edge of the park, where there was a path leading into the woods beyond for hiking. They crouched down as best they could, out of sight of the path. Elphaba finally let go of the spell, almost stumbling against a tree in relief. She took a deep breath, regaining herself, and ran a hand through her long, ebony hair. She looked back at them with determination, her eyes practically glowing.

"So here's what we're going to do. You guys stay here, and lie low. I'm going to go and search for a decent place for you guys to keep undercover with no disturbances. There are no more of you who need shelter, right?

"No, this is the last of us," the Leopard said.

"Great. Don't wander from here. Calypso?"

"Yes?" the Osprey raised her head.

"Fly behind me. I'll signal to you when I've found a spot, and you can go get the others. Contessa can watch the chicks."

"Alright," she said, reluctantly guiding the chicks over to the Hare, who repeatedly assured her that they would be under solid care.

"Can I come with you?" The young Moose scampered up to Elphaba's side, nuzzling her hand. Her expression softened as she looked down at him.

"No, I'm sorry little guy, it's too dangerous," she said, apologetically.

"I don't mind! I love danger!" Elphaba smiled, and Contessa chuckled, good heartedly.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, pitying the poor creature, all alone in the state Oz seemed to be in with no ruler: unstable and perilous. Not knowing what else to say, she walked into the brush, broom in hand and Calypso behind her.

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Dorothy leaned into the the basket of freshly baked cookies, taking in a deep whiff of the sweet scent. Wary of her Aunt's watchful eye - which was now focused on a pot on the stove - she reached out to snatch one away, ducking behind the counter after her expedition of thievery was complete. Feeling immensely accomplished, she started to creep away from the kitchen, aiming for the back door when a voice called her back.

"Dorothy! I was just going to call for you!" Panicking, Dorothy quickly shoved the cookie into her mouth before turning on her heel to face Aunt Em. She hid her hands behind her, brushing the crumbs off of her fingers as to erase the evidence.

"Darling, be a doll and bring these cookies to the new neighbors for me?" Not trusting herself to open her mouth, Dorothy nodded, taking the basket that her aunt roughly shoved into her hands.

"Thank you. Be nice and polite to them, and be back in no more than ten minutes, understood?" Dorothy nodded again, walking to the door before Aunt Em noticed anything suspicious.

Once safely outside the house, the young farm girl happily finished her cookie in peace, her trusty dog running around her feet. Near the borders of the farm, she spotted Hunk, Zeke, and Hickory tending to the pigs. Well, she spotted Hunk, Zeke, and the portion of Hickory's backside that stuck out from behind a pile of hay and mud.

"Hey, Dora! Or should I say, 'hay,' Dora!" Zeke laughed, throwing a handful of hay at her face. Dorothy giggled, used to this common pun, and brushed the hay strands out of her braids.

"Whatcha got there?" Hunk asked casually, swiftly attempting to lift the corner of the cloth covering the basket, only to have his hand swatted away promptly.

"Oh, hush. I'm bringing these to the new neighbors," Dorothy scolded, holding the basket away from him.

"Oh, _I_ get it. We're just not good enough for Dorothy and her perfect little cookies, are we!" Zeke griped, coming up from the other side.

"Yeah. what gives, Dora?!" Hunk added. He reached his hands out and started to tickle her sides, causing her to squirm and nearly throw the basket on the ground. Zeke joined in, only having to torture her for a few seconds for her to give in.

"Alright! Alright! B-but… only one!" Dorothy screeched, almost tossing the basket towards them. They abandoned her at once, starting to dig through the cookies for the biggest one, then splitting it between the two of them. Dorothy then snatched the basket away, shaking her finger at them.

"No more! I have to go, so I'll see you guys later!" she waved, starting to walk away when a voice called her back.

"Dora, do you mind comin' over here for a moment?" Dorothy turned around to see Hickory waving her back, peeking out from behind the fence.

"Sure," she started walking back to the place where Hickory was hiding, ignoring Hunk and Zeke's teasing whines, "Oh, Dorothy has plenty of time for Hickory! He's so sweet and never does any of the dirty work! We're just pesky farmhands!", and " Woe is us, oh woe indeed!". Upon stepping behind the mountains of hay, she gasped. Concealed behind haystacks and mud was a huge, metal contraption, which looked something like an old tractor and something like - though Dorothy would never admit it to Hickory's face - a pile of junk.

"What- I mean- _Wow_. It's very- ahem- _interesting_." Dorothy stuttered, deeply curious, but unsure of how to ask anything without sounding impolite. "Did you make it?"

"Yep! I've been working on it for over a month now. I'm quite proud of it, actually," he said, holding his head up in satisfaction. Toto trotted up to sniff at it, tentatively.

"You should be," Dorothy said, unsurely. Finally, curiosity took over. "What does it do?"

"I'm glad you asked!" he said, cheerfully. "This is going to be a revolutionary invention! Everyone will be wanting it. It could save our farm, maybe even our lives!"

"Really?" Dorothy was highly intrigued, now. "How?"

"All these dust storms we've been having, you see, they've been hurting the crops. They can't get enough water and get all blown down in the wind. New seeds never have time to grow roots. It's a real problem. This will solve all of it! You see, Dora, this invention can stop these dust storms from coming at all!"

"Woah," Dorothy breathed. This really _was_ big. She wasn't exactly too familiar with the dust storm problem, but she knew enough the realize how beneficial this invention could be.

"But, how?" Dorothy asked. Hickory jumped right into a complex explanation, which she did not understand in the slightest, but there was something that she did understand: _There was no way that this could work._

"And, that just about wraps it up!" he completed, clapping his hands together and looking, admiringly, at his invention. "So, do you like it?"

Fortunately, Dorothy was saved from answering by Aunt Em's call. Well, not actually that fortunate.

"Dorothy! Dorothy, are you done yet?"

"Quick! Hide these!" Dorothy hissed, throwing the basket down at his feet and running out to see her Aunt, trying her best to hide an embarrassed blush. "Come on, Toto!"

"There you are! I told you not to dawdle, but I guess you can't trust a thirteen year old with these kind of things, now can you. Did you bring them the cookies?"

"Um, yes Auntie Em," Dorothy lied through her teeth.

"Good girl. I need you by the chicken pen at five to help with the feeding again, so keep an eye on the clock. Off you go now." She waved her hand, dismissively, and briskly walked back to the house. Dorothy sighed in relief, running back behind the haystack. Hickory was laughing at Toto, who currently had his head buried in the basket, gobbling up all the cookies left.

"Toto!" Dorothy scolded, picking him up and stroking his head. "At least they weren't chocolate chip. I hope Auntie Em isn't angry."

"Those new neighbors are a bunch of rich bogus, anyway. They probably have at least ten servants making them cookies everyday." Dorothy laughed, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked up to the very top of Hickory's invention. Maybe it really could do some good.

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 **A/N #2: Things get more exciting, I promise! Next chapter is the important one! (It's also the last one I have pre-written so I should probably get to that.) ;)**

 **Reviews make my heart smile :)**


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